


Worth It

by TianaTeaticket



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: M/M, wrenchers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:23:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TianaTeaticket/pseuds/TianaTeaticket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events following the purloining of a wallet in order to pay for a hotel room leading up to Number's phone call to Lester in "Eating the Blame".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

“Okay, I know you stole the guy’s wallet. Any reason why?”  
They were walking away from a diner where Wrench had bumped into a young businessman in a fashion very much unlike himself. Now Numbers was looking up at Wrench inquisitively but his partner just grinned like a guilty child. He raised his hands and began to sign.  
“Thought we could get out of that god awful shack and stay in a god awful hotel instead tonight. Preferably one with heat. Don’t act like you haven’t been freezing your ass off and have been too smug to admit it, you’re shivering right now. Anyways, I didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you.”  
Personal pride dripped from his expression and it must have been contagious judging by the smirk Numbers was mirroring. How someone so huge with a limited understanding of the sound they were making could get so sneaky was beyond him. Wrench reached into his pocket and rifled around a bit before withdrawing a sleek, black leather wallet and holding it out to Numbers who was now consciously trying to not shake from the cold.   
Looking inside revealed two fifty dollar bills, a fair amount of singles, a faded picture of someone’s wife, and a condom. When Numbers finished inspecting the contents he looked up to see that his partner was already walking down the sidewalk towards a motel they had seen driving in. He ran to catch up.

That night Wrench dreamed of a small, furry animal crawling on his chest and woke up flailing. Only when he opened his eyes did he realize he was swatting at a now particularly grumpy Numbers. Oh.  
“That beard of yours is too damn bristly it’s giving me nightmares.”  
Numbers squinted at him with the incredulous look his statement deserved.  
“My beard gives you nightmares?”  
“Well I’m sure I’m not the only one,” he signed back cheekily.  
Numbers sighed and rolled off of him, enjoying the space this bed offered. They couldn't even lie down in the shack. He was almost regretting spending so much on that fur coat if the money could have instead been used to buy more nights like the one that had just happened. He fondly recalled being grateful for the condom supplied by the newly stolen wallet. Thank you horny young businessman.  
Wrench reached out in front of his partner and signed that he was going to take a shower. Numbers grunted in response before realizing he wouldn't be understood then proceeded to wave one arm around a bit to show his understanding and groggily rolled farther into the pillow.  
Someone who gets that much sleep has no right to act so grumpy all the time thought Wrench as he crowded into the small hotel bathroom. Not that the grumpiness bothered him that much, really. It would just be nice to convince himself it did. The shower was barely wider than his shoulders and he lamented that there was no way he’d be able to fit Numbers in there with him later. Although it was probably for the best considering what happened last time they stayed in a hotel together.  
The shower had been big enough to share and share they did. In abundance. The resulting damage to the wall tiles brought about an angry manager (who refused to listen to any explanation of how the walls were disintegrating to begin with) threatening to charge them for the destruction. They made a quick exit and the man never understood how lucky he was to just have been cheated of a room fee. Neither of them were overly fond of killing people outside of the job, but shit happens sometimes.  
Wrench let the lukewarm water rush against his chest as he attempted to not whack anything with his elbows and remembered, oblivious to anything going on outside the door.

Number’s hazy peace only lasted the time it took his partner to exit their bed and walk to the bathroom. The shower started up and sounded as if it was right next to his head, probably because it was. The thin walls were definitely not a plus for several reasons. He was unable to begrudge Wrench for the noise considering he’d have no reason to think he was being so loud and so Numbers tried to just stuff a pillow over his head and deal with it. It was useless, and Wrench was notorious for taking showers so long they could stretch into the next millennium.   
An arm reached out of the bed, followed slowly by a leg, and eventually all of Numbers sluggishly crawled out. He stood in the middle of the room blinking and trying to get his bearings knowing there was something he had to do for the job. The red blinking light of the hotel phone caught his eye. He had to call Lester this morning.  
Shit.  
Judging by the light filtering through the flimsy curtains it was already completely bright out. He knew Lester was going to be in his house/crime scene that morning but it might not even be the morning anymore. He grabbed wrinkled clothes from where they were strewn about on the floor and put them on, stumbling as his leg got caught in haste. With his scarf and laces untied he lunged for his flip phone. It laid on the bedside table beside a pen and what was pretending to be a pad of paper but was really just two sheets with hotel letterhead stuck together.  
With one hand he scrawled a note in crappy, connected handwriting explaining his absence. How it was necessary to run out for the job (thanks for remembering, asshole) and that afterwards he’d be at the diner drinking too much coffee. And if the note ended with a declaration of any sort it definitely wasn't sappy and there was no chance the word “love” was used.   
Definitely.  
He slipped the note under the bathroom door so that Wrench wouldn't miss it then ran out. He had considered hiding the fringe jacket before making his exit but decided against it due to the lack of time.  
Lester’s house wasn't too far away on foot, and the diner was even closer. Numbers rushed down the street huddled into himself to keep warm until he was directly across from the suspect’s house. Thankfully a light was on upstairs. He reached into his pocket to get the cell phone but was met with something else. He pulled out the wallet and grinned. Wrench had slipped it in there last night probably thinking it suited him like the romantic bastard he was.   
Well, it is a really nice wallet.   
He slipped it into the other pocket then successfully retrieved the cell phone while working up what he imagined to be his most intimidating tone.  
“Was it worth it?” he asked Lester, not caring about the answer in the slightest.


End file.
